


Only a Girl (Can Make Me Feel This Way)

by runicmagitek



Series: Aerti Week 2020 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Extended Scene, F/F, Mid-Canon, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, OGC and Remake Compliant, Pre-Relationship, Undressing Shenanigans, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26566309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: Sweeping her arms under her hair, Aerith lifted the loose curls to reveal the plunging back of the gown. “Could you help me get out of this? I can’t figure it out.”Tifa forgot how to breathe at that moment.After dealing with Corneo's goons, Tifa and Aerith tackle another challenge: undressing and redressing in time to save Cloud.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Series: Aerti Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932154
Comments: 21
Kudos: 131





	Only a Girl (Can Make Me Feel This Way)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 - jewel tones | missing scenes | _arcadian:_ idyllically innocent, simple and untroubled by fear or worry

Her knuckles thrummed. Tension slid down her neck. With an exhale, Tifa unclenched her fists and broke her fighting stance. She anticipated throwing some punches before setting foot in Don Corneo’s mansion, yet adrenaline still quaked in her form after every last creep dropped.

She also didn’t plan to have a tag-team partner, either, but Aerith proved her worth. Poor idiot wouldn’t sit in a folding chair again.

“Good job, Aerith,” she said.

Aerith’s eyes widened. “It was nothing compared to you!”

Her exaggerated punches and kicks brought a smile to Tifa’s lips. The sapphire ensemble she donned was barely a dress, yet the lack of fabric freed her limbs to move as she pleased. Perfectly acceptable in a quick brawl. For rescuing Cloud? Not so much.

She couldn’t imagine fighting in the exquisite gown Aerith wore. The plunging cuts and precise tailoring catered to Corneo’s tastes; Tifa feared for her safety when—not if—he chose her. Then again, it had been a night full of surprises. Why end now?

Aerith tilted her head and quirked her lips. “Something the matter?”

Tifa fluttered her eyes. “W-what’s that?”

“You had this far off look for a second.”

Tifa stiffened. Had she been _staring_ at Aerith? Her concerns focused on the impracticality of her garment, especially if more lackeys crossed their path. That was it. She wasn’t… looking for other reasons. Right?

The blip blossomed in a second. A fierce heat burned her cheeks as she averted her gaze. She swore Aerith smirked. Tifa parted her lips to speak, to defend herself, only to be silenced by the opening door.

She assumed a defensive stance, then relaxed. Leslie’s appearance wasn’t necessarily unwarranted, but what he brought was appreciated. The anxiety rattling Tifa’s form waned; no need to fret over breaking heels or ripping her flimsy outfit or even giving someone a free show.

“Perfect,” Tifa said, clapping her hands together. “I’ve been wanting to take this thing off before I even got here.”

“That makes two of us.” Aerith paused. “Though… this _is_ really nice.” She bunched the skirt fabric in her hands and swished it side to side. “Much nicer than anything I own! I’ll be sad to leave it behind.”

Tifa raised a brow as she bent to rummage through the sack. “That’s not yours?”

Aerith borderline snorted. “Oh no! Not even close. It’s… kind of a long story, but the short of it is Cloud and I became the colosseum champs and this—” She gestured to herself. “—was sort of a prize. Got all beautified to sneak in here!”

“So _that_ _’s_ how Cloud pulled off his transformation.”

“Well, not exactly. His was a bit more involved. Lots of dancing, though.”

Tifa blinked. “Wait, what—”

“Long story! Or at least not the kind you’d want a short version on.”

Aerith winked and Tifa bit back a smirk.

“You’ll have to tell me about it once we save him,” Tifa insisted, gathering what she assumed was Aerith’s clothing and extending it to her.

She nodded and scooped the items into her arms. “I promise!”

Tifa dumped the remainder of the sack onto the floor, smiling as her usual bar attire spilled out. The boots alone were a welcomed sight; her feet screamed with every step in the stiletto heels. As she gathered each piece, Tifa stood and examined the room. The boys scattering the floor didn’t flinch. Leslie promised to clean up the mess, so to speak, but she doubted he meant immediately.

“Well,” Tifa drew out, “I don’t see a changing room anywhere.” She nudged one of the lackeys with her foot. “They’re out cold, though, so we should be safe.”

“If not,” Aerith said, “you can just _hiyah_!” She unleashed a flurry of light punches. “Show them who’s boss!”

Tifa giggled. “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

Stepping over the unconscious bodies, Tifa claimed her side of the room and turned her back to Aerith. She kicked off her shoes and gently moaned as her feet melted into the wooden panels. As for the dress, it clung to her form thanks to lace ties at her waist and neck. She fussed with the one knotted at her waist until she groaned.

“You alright?” Aerith asked.

“Yeah,” Tifa spoke through a clenched jaw. “I tied these tighter than I remembered. Guess I didn’t want some idiot to pass me and tug them undone as a joke.”

“That’s pretty smart.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to cut this off me, either.” Tifa chewed on her lower lip as her voice dipped to a murmur. “It’s not as gorgeous as what you have, but it’s the nicest dress I own. I’d hate to ruin it.”

She didn’t notice the heel clicks approaching her. The fingertips brushing her neck? Tifa couldn’t ignore that if she tried.

Her breath hitched. She froze as delicate fingers slipped beneath her hair to find the lace tie around her neck.

“ _I_ think it’s a lovely dress,” Aerith said softly. “Also helps that you rock it! I could never pull something like this off, but it suits you. A lot. No point in harming it, yeah?”

Tifa licked her lips, folded her arms across her torso, and shivered at the light breaths tickling her shoulder. “Thank you,” she managed to utter.

As Aerith gradually coaxed the knot loose, Tifa rolled her kind words in her head. The fingertips ghosting her skin, the steady breaths washing over her… it cast a certain light to her anxious thoughts, one Tifa had _definitely_ not been prepared for when she departed Sector 7.

Admiring Aerith from afar, albeit briefly, was a delightful treat, but to have _her_ reciprocate? Even a little? There weren’t enough brain cells to comprehend such a gesture.

_But she_ _’s_ not _reciprocating anything,_ Tifa berated herself. _She_ _’s just… being nice. And helping you out of your dress. And also saying you look good in it. While standing_ really _close to you._ _And she_ _’s taking her time because the knots are super tricky and not… I don’t know… because she wants to indulge in this. Right?_

“There!”

Tifa blinked. Aerith retracted her hands. The lace clinging to the back of her neck loosened and slipped; Tifa grabbed the front of her dress before it unraveled. The smooth fabric almost passed through her fingers.

“That should do it,” Aerith said, clapping her hands and stepping away, much to Tifa’s dismay. “Need help with anything else—”

“I think I can manage,” Tifa rushed out. “Thank you.”

“Hey, not to worry. Us girls need to watch each other’s backs, right?”

“Of course.” Tifa paused. _Wait, does she mean_ literally _or—_

“I’ll be over here if you need anything!”

Aerith’s voice sounded from the opposite wall—close, but not enough. Swallowing hard, Tifa peeked over her shoulder. To make sure Aerith wasn’t watching while she changed. Or something like that. And yet Tifa’s stare lingered while Aerith kept her back to her and fussed with her jewelry and the flowers in her hair.

_What are you doing?!_ Tifa huffed and returned to center. _Cloud needs us. Now_ _’s not the time to gawk at the cute girl who helped you undress._ She paused while stepping out of said dress. _Oh no, she_ _’s_ cute.

Tifa swatted that pesky idea aside while she slipped on her usual attire. She chewed her lip, twitched her fingers, shuffled her feet, did absolutely anything to distract herself. Every time, Aerith and her playful smile and delicate fingers surfaced to Tifa’s mind.

_Need to focus,_ she told herself, wadding up her dress to store in a belt pouch. _Maybe when this is over, you can spare some time for childish fantasies, but for now—_

“Hey, Tifa?”

She perked up. Strained worry marked the lovely voice calling for her. Fully dressed, Tifa pivoted to Aerith. She clenched one fist, in case an uninvited guest stepped in. Instead, Aerith stood where Tifa last saw her—and still donning her extravagant dress.

Aerith glanced over her shoulder, a coy light in her eyes. “Um… could you do me a favor?”

“Yeah. Sure. What’s up?”

Sweeping her arms under her hair, Aerith lifted the loose curls to reveal the plunging back of the gown. “Could you help me get out of this? I can’t figure it out.”

Tifa forgot how to breathe at that moment.

“Uh… Tifa?”

“Yeah!” She fluttered her eyes and forced a smile. “Of course! You helped me, after all.” Tifa chuckled, albeit nervously, while approaching her. “We’ll get you out of this in no time.”

Aerith heaved out a breath of relief. “Oh thank goodness! I was worried _I_ _’d_ be the one cutting up this dress to get out of it. It took around five people to dress me—”

“Wait, _five_ people?”

“Mmhmm!” Aerith piled her hair over her shoulder once Tifa was in proximity. “A lot of last-minute alterations. That and a separate person doing my make-up and someone else doing my hair and—”

“Did they _sew_ you into this?”

Tifa forced to look anywhere but the bare skin of Aerith’s back. Barely enough fabric covered her rear before trailing down to her ankles. No seams or laces or buckles or buttons in plain sight, either.

“Maybe?” Aerith replied, just as puzzled as Tifa. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.” A gentle sigh left her. “If you need to rip it off, I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’d like to avoid doing that, if possible.” Another breath and Tifa weighed the options. “Um… I’m going to try to find a clasp or something holding this together, but… it might come across as _a bit_ handsy and—”

Aerith’s laughter shot through the room—a fluttering trill, full of light. The sound melted whatever tension lived within Tifa.

“Hey, if it helps get me out without ruining it,” she said, “then go ahead. I know you’re not some creep. It’s alright.”

Inhale, exhale. Tifa licked her lips and swallowed hard.

Her fingertips ghosted the hem of the gown, balancing between silk and skin. Warmth radiated from Aerith, even without touching her. Tifa kept her eyes locked on the trail of ruby fabric. It glowed in the lighting. She imagined her twirling in place after the countless people dressed her, glimmering and dazzling like the facets of a gem. Blushing skin with matching lips. The sweet aroma of the flowers nestled in her hair also soaked in her skin. Tifa wanted to bury her face in the crook of her neck and inhale that lovely scent and—

She paused, hitched her breath, and succumbed to a decadent chill.

“You okay?” Aerith asked, twirling hair in her fingers as she waited.

“Y-yeah,” Tifa replied, perhaps too quickly. “Just… the dress is complicated.”

“Sorry about that. If I had it my way, I would’ve picked some _much_ simpler.”

“It suits you, though.”

Aerith snorted. “Are you trying to say I’m complicated?”

“What?! No! That’s not—”

“I’m just teasing, Tifa!” Her skin vibrated as her giggling fit persisted. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Really?”

“Mmm. Sometimes it’s nice to share something you enjoy with someone else.”

Tifa ignored the heat rising in her face and the rapid thrum in her chest. Again her fingers sought for an invisible hold that bound the dress together. The search stretched for what felt like an eternity, but the slightest bump brushed her fingers along the side of the bodice. Tifa leaned in closer and curled her fingers until her nails caught under the fabric.

“ _There_ we go,” Tifa sighed out.

Aerith perked up. “Find it?”

“Looks like it. There was a tight seam along the embroidery with what looks like hooks inside. It’s hard to tell. Kind of clever, actually. It… will probably drop the second I unlatch them, so just be ready.”

Once Aerith nodded, Tifa unhooked the delicate claps one-by-one. She barely nudged the last one when it popped free.

And the entire gown plummeted to the floor.

And Aerith stood there, donning nothing but a smile.

Tifa froze. Wide eyes stared past the nude form. Slowly, her complexion resembled the gown now pooled at Aerith’s feet.

“Ah! Much better!” Aerith lifted her arms to stretch. “I feel like I can move again!” She twisted from side to side. “Now then, where were we—”

Maybe she turned to meet Tifa or grab her attire or do something else. It was lost to Tifa, who bolted back the moment Aerith shifted her feet to pivot. She spun around, wrapped her arms around herself, and stared at the floor, because anything was better than staring at the lovely, nude woman she had only just met.

“Hey,” Aerith gently called out, “is something the matter?”

“Nope! Not at all. Figured I’d… you know, let you change. Now that the gown is off.”

“Is that all?”

Her words teased Tifa, like her breath tickling her not long ago.

“I think so,” Tifa managed to say.

“Well,” Aerith drew out, “I appreciate the help.” Clothes rustled and Aerith sighed. “I’ll have to return this to Madam M. Maybe she’ll let me wear it again someday. You know, an occasion that _doesn_ _’t_ involve Don Corneo.”

Tifa dared to glace at her from the corner of her eye. “You have something in mind?”

Aerith shrugged on her jacket and fluffed her thick hair over her shoulders. She hummed, deep in thought, while weaving her curls together into a twisted braid. “Maybe.” Her green eyes caught Tifa’s. “Might even end with the gown on the floor again, if you’re around to help remove it.”

Another hitch in her throat. Tifa whipped her head to center. Another giggle surfaced. Eventually, a hand rested on her shoulder, the warmth sinking into Tifa’s skin until she longed to lean back into that sensation.

“Hey, Tifa?”

She stood straighter, yet stiffened. “Yeah?”

A light squeeze, then, “Thanks again for the help. With the dress _and_ the goons.”

Tifa held her breath and turned ever-so-slightly. Aerith met her with a smile—both on her pink lips and in her eyes. Like emeralds, almost. A precious gem in the depths of the slums.

Tifa couldn’t help but crack a smile in return.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she murmured.

Those eyes dazzled at Tifa’s reply. She hoped Aerith never stopped regarding her in such a kind light.

“Well then.” Aerith stepped back. “You ready to save Cloud?”

Tifa flexed her fingers, the leather gloves snug against her knuckles. “More than ready.”

Before heading to the depths of the mansion, Aerith leaned over the railing to catch Leslie’s attention, asking him to return the gown and accessories. Tifa rested a hand on her pouch, where her dress wadded in a ball—the same one Aerith admired. Maybe when they were out of the Wallmarket, they could revisit that idea—of a night dressed up for themselves, for each other. That image kept Tifa pressing on and smiling, even when she didn’t want to.

At least she had a reason not to give up.


End file.
